


The House

by Little_Firestar84



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Gen, Humor, Post Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 14:44:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3573557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Firestar84/pseuds/Little_Firestar84
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Didn't you see that the house is leaning on the left side?" Or the time Stan teaches Patrick Jane that realtors aren't to be trusted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The House

**Author's Note:**

> A little post-finale fic, set 24 hours after the wedding and posted on their wedding one month anniversary (more or less).   
> I swear I don't have anyhting against realtors- this thing was born just from, a)Jane's realtor running away immediately after he signed the papers, like she was scared he would change his mind, and b)the realtor that sell my old place, who suggested a probably owner to tear a wall down to enlarge the living room... even if I knew it to be a bearing wall.

Stan and Jimmy Lisbon didn’t need to know well- and close and personal- Patrick Jane to be aware that there was a single thing the man hated with a passion, and it was asking for help.

And yet, less than 24 hours after his wedding to their sister, they guessed it was exactly what he had in mind- and his reluctance to open his mouth as he stared at the shack right before them was sort of one of the things that agreed with their theory.

“Are we here for a reason?” Jimmy asked, whining like a child, hugging his arms against the bitter morning air. “Because I know I should be a responsible adult on my way to marriage, but there are better things I could think of, of doing at…. What kind of unholy hour is this anyway?”

Jane rolled his eyes; it wasn’t an unholy hour, it was half past eight, but he guessed that Jimmy Lisbon was  a simple man, especially on vacancy.

Sex, sleep, booze and a full belly.

“We are here, gentlemen, because I happened to discover that I’m in dire need of your help.” Smiling his smug, “cat-got-the canary”/” I know I’m irresistible and you know it too” smile, he turned to face the brothers, his back to the house; Jimmy was  a little scared, while Stan, maybe for a few more conversations with Teresa over the years, was well prepared to Patrick Jane and his antics, and shook his head, hands on his hips, in a stance that Jane couldn’t see as belonging to his dearest Teresa.

“Jane…” he started, then corrected himself. “Patrick, you are not going to get us involved in one of your schemes, all right? There’s just no way in hell that we are going to do something illegal for you. Especially,” he continued, pointing an accusing finger in his younger brother’s general direction. “Especially this one, all right?”

Jane looked at his fresh brother-in-law with an hand on his heart, with mock disbelief. “Why would you think such a thing of myself?”

Jimmy still didn’t know how to look, the terror clear in his eyes, while Stan’s expression was mirroring Teresa’s own when he said those words to her. “Ok, all right, you have a point. But I can assure you, it’s nothing illegal.”

Jane paused for dramatic effect, then he turned once again, arms crossed dramatically and proudly as he stood between the siblings, facing his property; the trio stood in silence, like Jane was sure that his actions alone would explain what he needed help with.

“….So?” Stan asked, moving his arms around, talking slowly as he was doing it with one of his children; Jane looked at him in disbelief, like the man had suddenly grown a third head or whatever. Was it really that hard to understand what he needed help with, for God’s sake?

Jane rolled his eyes, and turned back to look at his purchase, and when he talked, he had to admit he was a little annoyed. Ah, the Lisbons. He always had to spell things with them…

“Stan, my man, tell me, do you remember the money Teresa and I loaned you?” Stan didn’t answered, he just gulped down a mouthful of saliva, soundly, and his look shifted from annoyed to worried to just plain scared in a matter of seconds; many things went through his mind, a sort of near death experience, remembering everything Reese had told him over the years about her consultant; of course she had lied to him about not being in love with the man, but the Chicago born and raised young man was pretty sure everything else- i.e. the complaints and his escapades- were all true.

He should have listened to Reese. Believed her. And never, ever borrowed money form the guy.  

“Really Stan, Really? You think so low of little poor old me?” Jane shook his head. A art of him was annoyed with his brothers –in-law, the other was extremely amused- there was nothing better than “reading” a Lisbon to pass time, after  all. “I’m not going to get any of you involved in anything illegal. I’m not going to get any of you involved in one of my plans. And before you ask me- no, I’m not a loan shark.”

“You know, that’s funny, that’s exactly what my loan shark used to tell me.” Jimmy said, getting involved in the conversation for the first time. He was amused, but when he noticed the other two men looking at him with stern gazes, he cleared his voice and decided to keep his trap shout before getting himself in troubles once again.

“Fact is, Stan, I need my money back, but, before you said anything…. I’m expecting to be paid in nature.” Jane chuckled, while Jimmy was looking at a point in the distance, confused.

“Does Reese know that you want to sleep with her brother less than a day after marrying her?”

“What? No!” Jane said, feeling rather hurt and offended in his masculinity. “It’s this, “ he said pointing at the house. “That I need help with! I wanted to renew it on my own, but I’m a novice, and everything has to be finished in less than seven months!”

“Why? What’s going to happen in seven months?” Jimmy asked. For a poker player, sometimes he looked like a dumb idiot- something confirmed by the slap on the back of the head he received from his older brother; Stan had been around too many pregnancies- of both his mother and his wife- to not have recognized Teresa’s radiant glow; Teresa was carrying Patrick’s child without any shadow of doubt, and if he knew his sister- which he did- the news of the pregnancy had been revealed to Jane as a wedding gift. He wasn’t going to reveal his sister’s secret, though, as he understood why she wanted to keep people in the dark for a little longer.

Stan simply shook his head, and took a big breath, then he grinned. Things were going even better than planned. After all, it looked like he wouldn’t need to pay Patrick and Teresa back. Actually, just looking at the… thing, he believed that it would have cost the couple a lot more than what he owed them in the first place.  

“Two things, Patrick. One: you’ll not be allowed on the ground. There would be too many bureaucratic issues, FBI or not FBI, to get you in my crew, what with insurances and risk of off the books work.”

Jane sighed. He was sorry for this, but he guessed he didn’t have any choice; they didn’t have a lot of time with the baby coming in seven and half months, so he guessed he really had to leave it to professionals, after all. “Two?” he asked, grimacing internally. Whatever it was, he guessed it couldn’t be too good or too nice- Stan was really like a younger, male version of his Teresa, apparently.

… And in fact, his answer was a soundly slap on the back of his head. “Ouch. What was that for?”

Stan shook his head. “Two, Patrick, you’ll have to pay me money, as in, a lot. There’s no way that what I owe you will not cover this.”

“What? But… the realtor said….” For once in his life, Patrick Jane was speechless.

Stan shook his head and took a big breath- just like when he had to explain something to the kids – and then, one hand on Patrick’s shoulder, he gestured at the construction, indicating the left side.

“It’s leaning to the left, it means that there are stability, ground and/or foundation issues. Which means,” Stan kept saying, smug and arrogant and very, very happy. “Which means that I’ll have to tear it down and then build it again. And given the little time we have, I’ll need a little extra…”

“But… the realtor said it was just…. Slanty….”

Stan shook his head, feeling the need to ruffle Jane’s hair as he was a kid. He was starting to pity the poor man. Well, actually, he didn’t, as Jane’s disgrace was his own fortune. And besides, it wasn’t like the guy didn’t have enough money hidden to afford building in seven months an home for his little family of 3.

“Patrick, Patrick, Patrick… never, ever listen to what realtors says… have I ever told you about the time I had to rebuild a place because the guy had decided to do everything on his own, and he had listened to the realtor suggesting to demolish a wall to make the room bigger? Too bad it was a bearing wall…”


End file.
